


something like happiness

by littlemissmeggie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Kisses, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-14
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-17 10:18:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemissmeggie/pseuds/littlemissmeggie
Summary: A little collection of my Narry drabbles that have been posted on tumblr, they're too tiny to warrant their own separate posts here on AO3—all under about 1,000 words—but deserve to be shared.(Stories will be added as chapters and new tags will appear with each addition but rest assured that they are all Narry!)





	1. (all afternoon) in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was written for a tumblr friend who seemed to enjoy my tags on [this post](http://littlemissmeggie.tumblr.com/post/161403293183/dailyniall-x).
> 
> The title is taken from The Vaccines' song "(All Afternoon) In Love."
> 
> Just tipsy Harry and lovesick Niall...

“Niall,” said Harry, sitting beside the boy where he sat on the floor, leant back against the sofa with a bottle of beer on the coffee table in front of him. “Niall,” he said again in what he thought was a whisper but wasn’t that much quieter than his usual voice.

Niall turned away from the lad he was chatting with—Justin was his name, and he looked rather familiar, though Niall couldn’t quite place him—and looked at Harry.

“Haz—”

“What are you doing, Niall?” asked Harry, leaning forward to press his face into the hollow of Niall’s neck.

Niall chuckled lightly, amused. “Chatting with Justin,” he said, reaching up to thread his fingers through Harry’s short hair; he still wasn’t really used to that—he’d not seen Harry much in the last year since he’d cut his hair because Harry had wanted to be  _away_  while he’d written and recorded his album and Niall had given him that space he asked for—and wondered if Harry would let him see him enough now to finally have a chance to get used to it. “He’s a guitarist too.”

“Of course he is, you beautiful prat,” said Harry fondly, words slightly slurred and lips brushing Niall’s neck. He turned his head so it was rested on Niall’s shoulder and added, voice a bit less muffled now, “You listen to his music all the time.”

“Well, yeah,” said Niall, hoping that Justin didn’t notice that Niall was just now realising he was Justin Young, the lead singer and guitarist for The Vaccines.

Justin laughed and stood up. “You want another beer, mate?” he asked and Niall nodded.

“Didn’t know you knew The Vaccines,” Niall said to Harry as Justin walked to the kitchen.

“Niall, you silly kitten,” said Harry, shaking his head against Niall’s shoulder and looking at his best mate—the love of his life, really—the blond all grown out of his hair and replaced by his natural brown; he wasn’t used to that yet and he hoped he’d see Niall enough now to memorise exactly how beautifully his brown hair contrasted with his stunningly blue eyes. “Alexa’s friends with Matt Hitt—”

“And Matt Hitt’s, like, mates with Justin,” finished Niall, realisation dawning. “So we’re at Alexa’s then?” Niall hadn’t been sure  _whose_  flat they were at now, he just knew it wasn’t Nick’s; they’d left the bar they’d been at all night and Niall had followed Harry blindly, eager and willing, because he would follow Harry  _anywhere_ , really.

“Yes,” agreed Harry. He moved his head again, pressing his lips to Niall’s ear in a way that was so  _familiar_  and comforting. “You’re so pretty, Niall,” whispered Harry. “Do you know how pretty you are?” he breathed against Niall’s ear.

“Haz,” he said, eyes fluttering shut as Harry’s breath tickled his neck. He felt a shiver run up his spine and he moved a hand to Harry’s lower back, thumb tracing gentle lines at the dip just above the waist of his jeans.

“I didn’t grab a beer for you, Harry,” came Justin’s voice from above the coffee table. “Do you want one?”

Harry shook his head. “No, thank you,” he said. “Everything’s already blurry. Like old photographs.”

Niall turned to Justin, who was settling back down on the floor next to the sofa, and smiled. “Lightweight,” he told the older lad, gesturing with a tilt of his head toward Harry.

“No,” said Harry, pouting a bit, and Justin laughed.

“Okay, pet.” Niall rolled his eyes and resumed his conversation with Justin, discussing their favourite amps—“Interesting how the Hound Dog sounds like a Marshall when you’re playing a Les Paul,” commented Justin—and the pros and cons of using vintage equipment.

“Niall,” whispered Harry about twenty minutes later, lips against Niall’s ear again and breath smelling a bit like the sips of beer he kept stealing off Niall’s bottle. “Niall, you’re so handsome with your glasses on. You’re the most handsome boy in the world.”

“ _Fuck_ , Harry,” Niall gritted out under his breath, the hand that still rested on Harry’s lower back pulling him in even closer to his side.

“I’ll leave you two alone with that beer, yeah,” said Justin as he looked on in mild amusement, a smirk on his face. “It was nice talking to you, Niall. Should come hang out with the lads, have a proper jam sometime. I like your sound. Very California rock.”

“Thanks,” said Niall as Justin stood up. “Yeah. That’d be- that’d be good craic.”

“You’re so Irish,” whispered Harry, giggling softly. “I love you, Niall. You’re- I love you so much. Do you- Did you know that? Ever?”

Niall inhaled sharply and turned to meet Harry’s slightly unfocused gaze. “Harry?” he asked, unsure if this was  _real_.

Suddenly, Harry looked more alert, eyes widening because this wasn’t really how he’d ever intended to tell Niall that he was in love with him but now it was out there and he couldn’t take it back. He didn’t want to take it back either, he supposed. “Can I,” he breathed out, “can I  _please_  have a kiss?”

“Harry, let’s- let’s leave.  _Please_ ,” said Niall quietly. “Let’s go back to mine, yeah.”

Harry looked at Niall, a bit confused as his alcohol-muddled brain tried to catch up to what was happening. “ _Please_ , Niall,” he pleaded. “Can I  _please_ have a kiss?”

“Harry, let’s go back to mine,” repeated Niall. “I don’t- I really don’t want our first kiss to be here. At a party with all your mates round. I want it to be- It needs to be  _special_ , pet.”

“Does that mean- Will you  _kiss_  me?” asked Harry, sounding a mix of surprised and awed.

“Jesus, yes. I’ll kiss you all night if you want, Haz,” said Niall. “Just. We need to leave. Let’s find Alexa and—”

“No. Let’s just leave,” said Harry. “She’ll understand when I tell her later. When I tell her you finally kissed me.”


	2. fist bumps and first kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt— "You went for a fist bump and I went for a kiss and you just punched me in the face."

Niall was right when he said “everything we do” because it seemed that whenever Harry and Niall did anything together, they succeeded.

After the concert, they’d found a bar near the hotel and discovered that they were holding a trivia night. The boys had enthusiastically signed up, calling themselves “Team Narry” because  _why not._

*******

Niall and Harry were the last team remaining, only two questions standing in the way of their victory.

“In 1974, which band released an album titled  _On the Border_?” asked the host. The team that had just been eliminated had answered the question incorrectly, earning a quiet scoff from Niall.

“The Eagles,” said the blonde, the unspoken  _of course_  obvious in his voice and the expression on his face. Harry beamed beside him, not even needing the announcer to declare Niall correct because _obviously_ he was right.

“Correct!” said the host. “Just this last question! In 1990, who portrayed real-life gangster Henry Hill in the movie _Goodfellas_?”

Niall looked at Harry and smiled wide as Harry answered in his slow drawl. “Ray Liotta.”

“Correct again. Congratulations!” announced the host as everyone clapped. “You guys are the winners!”

Niall turned to Harry, hand in a fist, and stretched it out to the lanky lad for a fist bump, arm raised high to avoid knocking his pint over with his elbow.

The timing was perfect, really, when Harry turned his face toward Niall and tipped his head down to place a kiss to Niall’s pink mouth.

Niall’s fist collided with Harry’s nose.

“Ahh!” exclaimed Harry, more from surprise than pain, as he leant back.   

“Harry!” said Niall, his eyes widening almost comically. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

“You punched me!” said Harry, sounding shocked and a tiny bit like a petulant child.

“No, I tried to give you a fist bump, you twat!” said Niall, chuckling quietly. “Why’d you move your face down?”

Harry suddenly looked embarrassed, his face flushing. He looked away from Niall and took a long sip of his beer.

“Harry?” asked Niall, his eyebrows knit in confusion as he looked at Harry.

Before he even knew what was happening, Harry took Niall’s ruddy cheeks in his large hands and ducked forward; he placed a soft, hesitant kiss to Niall’s mouth. “I was trying to kiss you,” he whispered against Niall’s lips.

“Oh,” whispered Niall. He pressed his lips to Harry’s, just as softly and hesitantly as the brunette had done, and felt Harry smile against his lips before kissing Niall more firmly.

The kiss was short but gentle and sweet. When they pulled away, noses only inches apart, Niall’s face was flushed and Harry’s eyes sparkled.

“Been wanting to do that for ages,” confessed Harry, smiling shyly.


	3. peppermint lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt an old friend posted on tumblr— 
> 
> Can we think about Harry having a thing for all things peppermint. Candy, toothpaste and lip balm and how much Niall loves the lip balm because every time Harry kisses Niall it makes Niall’s lips feel tingly, and he loves the sensation so much he can’t stop kissing Harry when ever he sees him putting it on. Its also secretly the only reason why Harry continuously slicks it across his full lips, he loves how much Niall can’t stop kissing him.

Niall had never been much of a peppermint man before. His favourite ice cream had always been chocolate chip cookie dough and he’d actually been a bit personally offended when he found out that Shamrock Shakes were mint flavoured. **  
**

But Harry had changed that.

*******

It became something of a joke one Christmas, that Harry always had a candy cane in his pocket and another tucked up in his bun while he licked at a third, when he eagerly bought far too many boxes of candy canes and worked his way through them over the course of the holiday season.

Harry  _loved_  peppermint. Peppermint  _anything_. Mint chocolate chip ice cream, peppermint Altoids, that peppermint gum he loved to chew all of the time. He loved peppermint toothpaste and peppermint lip balm and, of course, candy canes.

But mostly Harry loved kissing Niall.

*******

The kissing thing had started accidentally, really, usually part of a night filled with too much alcohol and Harry’s drunken whisperings of silly inside jokes and terribly slurred stories against Niall’s ears and neck and jaw.

But somewhere along the way, they started to kiss  _for real—_ drunk actions are sober thoughts, or something like that, Niall supposed—and Niall discovered that he loved Harry’s peppermint lip balm; he loved the way it made his lips all tingly, a sensation that almost mimicked the butterflies in his tummy whenever they kissed.

*******

Niall watched as Harry smoothed on lip balm, eyes focused intently on the sheen of Harry’s rose pink lips.

Harry smirked, feeling a bit like Pavlov with his dog, as he watched Niall watch him slick the peppermint lip balm over his full lips, replacing the cap and putting the tube back in his pocket.

Not even thirty seconds passed before Niall leant into Harry and kissed the corner of his mouth, a soft press of his lips that silently asked for  _more_. Harry turned to his boy and smiled gently.

“Hi, love,” he said quietly. That seemed to be all Niall needed to hear before he tucked himself forward again, placing his mouth against Harry’s peppermint lips and kissing him firmly. Niall’s arms wrapped around Harry’s neck, hands clutching his shoulders. Their lips slotted together, moving in a deep kiss. Harry placed one arm around Niall’s slender waist and slid his other hand into Niall’s blond hair, dragging him in tightly against his body. Noses pressing against cheekbones and tongues teasing, Niall felt the butterflies in his tummy and wondered if they fluttered around in Harry’s stomach too. He hoped they did.

“ _Tingly_ ,” said Niall in a bashful whisper as they pulled apart, cheeks red.

“Just for you, love,” said Harry, touching his forehead to Niall’s, green eyes meeting brilliant blue.

Because somewhere along the way, it became less about the peppermint and more about kissing Niall.


	4. s'not my fault you smell like honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a little while, hijacking other people's posts on tumblr and adding tiny little Narry drabbles was a hobby of mine.
> 
> This drabble was inspired by and tagged onto this post— imagine being able to wake up next to niall in the morning with his hair ruffled and morning voice. imagine carrying niall’s drunk ass to the bed because “i’m irish” doesn’t change the fact that a few pints get him drunk. imagine cuddling with niall on the couch while he rants about the game on the tv. imagine being able to kiss and hug and tease and flirt with niall whenever you can. @harry styles you’re a lucky man

“G’morning,” said Niall quietly, morning voice gravelly and low. **  
**

“Mmmmm,” Harry hummed happily, content and warm in the bed he shared with Niall. He rolled over and looked up at Niall from where his head rested on his pillow, a sleepy smile stretching across his face. Niall’s blond hair was ruffled, disheveled and sticking out every which way, making him look soft and cuddly.

Harry blinked slowly a few times and then told Niall sweetly, “You’re cute.”

Niall leant down and pressed his lips softly to Harry’s plump lips, kissing him slowly.

Harry pulled back, eyes closed. “Good morning, kitten.”

*******

“Haz. Haz! I’m not drunk! I’m _Irish_!” said Niall, logic that seemed to make perfect sense to the drunk blond in Harry’s arms. It was flawed logic, though, because despite the fact that his boyfriend was, in fact, Irish, it only took a few pints to get him drunk.

Harry chuckled and continued walking up the stairs, carrying Niall to bed.

*******

Harry lay on the sofa, Niall tucked along his front and arms wrapped around the smaller lad’s stomach. He nuzzled his nose against the sensitive flesh behind Niall’s ear, eyes closed as he inhaled Niall’s scent.

“Penalty!” Niall yelled at the television, breaking free of Harry’s arms and sitting up. “Show the yellow card, ref! Come on!” He looked back down at Harry and asked, “Did you  _see_  that, Haz?”

Harry’s eyes widened as if he’d just realised that Niall expected him to actually  _watch_  the football match with him.

“Of course you didn’t, you right twat!” Niall exclaimed. “Too busy smelling my hair or summat.” He quirked a smile at Harry to let him know that he wasn’t  _really_  upset.

“S’not my fault you smell like honey,” mumbled Harry, blushing and sounding a little embarrassed.

*******

Harry walked into the kitchen, finding Niall sitting on a stool at the island, mug of tea in front of him and newspaper open to the sport section. He spun the swivel seat around so Niall was facing him, placing his hands on the counter behind Niall, one on each side of the smaller boy, and stepped forward.  

“Harry!” giggled Niall, surprised. The brunette bent down to kiss him firmly and Niall moved his legs up, wrapping them around Harry’s bare lower back. One of his hands slid up the back of Harry’s head, twining in his hair and pulling him closer still, the other arm wrapped around his neck.

After several minutes, Harry pulled back and looked over Niall’s shoulder at the hastily-dropped newspaper on the counter. “Proper nerd, reading the newspaper!” Harry teased, a wide smile on his face.

“Oi!” said Niall, watching as his boyfriend walked around the counter to make his own tea. “The sport pages, that is!”


	5. maple syrup on poutine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone sent an anonymous ask to a girl I follow on tumblr— _Rmr all those kisspering narry moments? Everytime Harold came too close, Niall mustve momentarily closed his eyes & held his breath. Imagine niall waking up in d middle of the night all alone because he ghost-felt those lips on his ears in his sleep!_
> 
> She responded with this— _GAHHHHHH. Imagine Niall calling Harry in the middle of the night after that, forgetting about the time difference (not that it matters, really) and instead of telling Harry the truth about why he’s calling he makes up a dumb excuse just to get Harry to SPEAK because Niall misses his voice!_
> 
> I reblogged it and added this little drabble...

Niall woke up, breathless and flushed, feeling the ghost of Harry’s lips and the warm, damp air from Harry’s breath as he’d whispered in Niall’s ear. **  
**

It was the third night in a row he’d had the same dream, the third night in a row he woke up alone and aching for  _Harry_.

And it was the third night in a row he woke up frustrated because he didn’t know what Harry had whispered as he’d gripped Niall’s shoulder, fingers pressing into the flesh where his neck and shoulder meet, and pressed his lips to Niall’s ear.

He just needed to hear Harry’s voice very badly.

He reached out and felt around beside his pillow, searching for his phone. He found it and held it up in front of his face, pressing the home button and looking at the time on the brightly lit screen. 4:37 am. He was too tired to do the math, to figure out what time it was wherever Harry was. He wasn’t even sure where Harry  _was_  now, actually.

_Whatever._

He opened his contacts and tapped Harry’s name,  **ari babes**  the first in his favourites list. It rang only once before Harry answered.

“Hi Niall,” came Harry’s deep molasses drawl.

“Harry,” said Niall on an exhale, a small smile twitching on his lips.

“What’s up, Ni?” asked Harry. “Aren’t you in London? Isn’t it, like, 4:30 in the morning?”

“Mmhm,” Niall hummed in agreement, smile growing on his lips at just the sound of Harry’s voice.

“Are you drunk?” asked Harry suspiciously.

“No,” said Niall, shaking his head as if Harry could see.

“Then why did you call me at 4:30 in the morning?” Niall could hear the smirk in Harry’s voice.

_Because I needed to hear your voice_ , thought Niall. “I was just thinking about Montreal,” he said instead.

“Poutine?” asked Harry cheekily.

“And maple syrup,” added Niall.

“Maple syrup  _on_  poutine,” said Harry, giggling softly. Niall’s smile grew even wider; he wasn’t really sure why Harry got so passionate while talking about poutine, but tonight it would work to Niall’s advantage. He closed his eyes and listened as Harry talked about Canada and poutine and maple syrup, serenading him occasionally with Michael Buble.

After nearly forty-five minutes of talking and singing, Harry said quietly, “Ni?”

“Yeah?” asked Niall sleepily.

“I miss you, love.”

_He knew_ , Niall thought to himself. “I miss you too, Haz.”


	6. riding in cars with boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The idea for a Narry roadtrip drabble had been floating around my thoughts for a while and then I saw [this list of things driving in the car with Harry would include](http://littlemissmeggie.tumblr.com/post/144557511698/driving-in-the-car-w-harry-would-include) and inspiration struck.

“Oi! Haz!” shouted Niall from the front stoop.

“I’m coming!” Harry yelled back from somewhere inside the house. He appeared at the door a few moments later, a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder and a pair of Chelsea boots in his hands. He walked past Niall, who turned to close and lock the door behind Harry, and moved toward the car.

“You’ve got everything, then?” asked Niall as Harry threw his bag and the boots into the backseat and closed the door.

“Yes, Ni,” said Harry, sounding exasperated.

The boys climbed into the Range Rover, Niall in the driver’s seat. “I’m not turning around because you forgot something,” warned Niall.

*******

After returning to their house twice, because  _I need those boots, Ni!_  and  _That’s the only pillow I can sleep with!_ , Harry and Niall finally started their five and a half hour drive to Holyhead.

Not even five minutes after leaving the house for the third time, Harry reached a big hand across the gearshift and placed it on Niall’s skinny thigh, unable to keep his hands off the blonde. He leant forward and turned on the radio, tuning it to “pop radio of the ‘90s, 2000s, and today!”

“Sing with me, Ni!” he yelled over the blaring radio. Justin Timberlake’s voice filled the car with the opening lines of *Nsync’s “Pop.”

_“Sick and tired of hearing all these people talk about what’s the deal with his pop life and when is it gonna fade out!”_  Harry sang.

Niall joined Harry after a quick look at his boyfriend’s happy, overly-excited face.  _“Think you’ve got to realise what we’re doing is not a trend. We got the gift of melody, we’re gonna bring it ‘til the end!”_

Niall laughed to himself, the irony of the song’s lyrics hitting him, and pushed aside the melancholy they brought as well, ignoring his own realisation that the irony of those lyrics may someday pertain to both Harry and himself.  _At least I’ll always have Harry._

Several more songs played, Harry’s enthusiasm never diminishing as he sang along to each ( _“Oh my hair smells like chocolate!”_ ), glaring at Niall whenever the blonde stopped singing but unable to hide the smile that curled onto his full lips.

And then the “Baba O’Riley”-esque opening of “Best Song Ever” blared from the speakers. Harry screamed at the top of his lungs, so happy and  _so_  excited, as though he  _hadn’t_  sung this song in front of hundreds of audiences to millions of fans.

“I  _love_  this band!” shouted Niall. “What’s their name again? One Erection?” He cackled, laughing loudly at his stupid joke and earning a glare from the brunette.

“ _Maybe it’s the way he walked,”_  Harry started singing along with his own recorded voice,  _“straight into my heart and stole it. Through the doors and past the guards, just like he already owned it! I said, ‘Can you give it back to me?’ He said, ‘Never in your wildest dreams!’”_

Niall joined Harry, singing together,  _“And we danced all night to the best song ever!”_

They sang along, loud and joyful, because, even though they were used to hearing their own voices on the radio, it still sent a jolt of happiness through them. Niall placed a hand on top of Harry’s where it still lay on his thigh, brushing his fingers over Harry’s knuckles and long fingers.

*******

Harry and Niall finally arrived in Dublin, the ferry docking at the terminal. They climbed back into their Range Rover, Harry deciding to drive the rest of the way to Mullingar.

As they waited in the long line to drive off the boat, Niall leant over the gearshift and kissed Harry’s cheek, a sweetly affectionate peck. Harry turned to Niall, a look of complete joy and surprise on his face, as though he still couldn’t quite believe that Niall  _kisses_  him. Niall’s lips quirked into a small smile and he tipped his head back, resting it against the glass of the window.

*******

Not even ten minutes away from the ferry terminal, Niall fell asleep, cheek against the window and breath fogging up the glass. Mouth slightly open and hair sticking up against the dewy window, Harry couldn’t help but steal glances every so often.  _So lucky,_  thought Harry as he admired the beautiful boy beside him.

With the sun setting outside the window behind Niall’s head, Harry wondered if Niall was  _real_  because he actually looked a bit like an angel; a silly thought, yes, but Harry reached out a hand and placed it on Niall’s thigh, almost to prove to himself that Niall  _was_  real. Still asleep, Niall slid his hand down from where it lay on his tummy and laced his fingers with Harry’s, a sleepy habit that he had developed and that Harry  _loved_.

Smiling, Harry gave Niall’s hand a little squeeze.

*******

Pulling into Bobby’s driveway, Harry put the car in park and shut the engine off. Lifting Niall’s hand to his lips, he softly kissed the blonde’s knuckles. “Wake up, kitten!” said Harry gently. “We’re here.”

**Author's Note:**

> look for updates frequently (or subscribe if you'd like)! i know it's not even 1,000 words but comments and kudos are so appreciated! 
> 
> you can come find me on [tumblr](http://littlemissmeggie.tumblr.com/) and say hi!


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